Archive for January, 2010

A grand trunk

Mum never actually intended to collect elephants. But someone gave her one, once; she had it on display, someone else saw it, decided she must like elephants, bought her another. Someone else saw the two, bought her a third, and soehow the word just spread…

So, Mum collects elephants. Over the years, she’s abandoned various parts of the collection as she goes through de-cluttering phases – for example, I have a magazine holder made of cane with an elephant face weaved into it. It’s part of my childhood, and although it looks a little out of place in our lounge, I still love it.

There’s only one elephant that’s really special to her collection, though. Mum loves jade; and thirty-odd years ago, there was a store in my hometown that had a Mexican jade elephant displayed in the window. Mum loved this thing on sight. But she and Dad were dirt-poor, they’d just moved cities, were renting, trying to save for a house, repair their car… there was no way they could afford it.

Every time Mum was in town, she went to look at ‘her’ elephant. Dragged Dad along a few times, too.

A few weeks later, the elephant disappeared from the window display. Mum was really quite upset, but tried to be philosophical about the fact that someone else had bought ‘her’ elephant.

Someone else had. My father.

A month or two after that, Dad bought it home. He’d arranged a layby with the store owner, who’d obviously thought the young bloke trying to buy an elephant for his smitten wife was sweet. And he’d quietly managed to squirrel away the money without Mum noticing (which, let me tell you, would be some feat). That elephant is about the only one that’s survived various purges of the collection; Mum loves it dearly. I don’t remember a time when it wasn’t somewhere on display in the living room.

She’s been a widow 21 years today.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

The bathroom is just about done. I still need to touch the edges of the bath up (ie, remove the rest of the paint) – I was careful about paint stripper around the edges, not wanting to damage floor / skirting boards / wallpaper etc.

Of course, now I want to rip all the wallpaper off and paint the bathroom walls instead. It’s crappy wallpaper, it’s already lifting in places, and I like painting.

I have yet to convince Tobermory that my desire is feasible.

In the meantime, I have been doing other things. Various wedding-related things (I am attempting not to be boring about wedding planning, or a bridezilla, so I’ll spare the details); most recently making the remainder of my wedding dress.

I bought a dress off TradeMe for $38.50, including P&P. It was a size 22-24 (ie, much too big for me) and the skirt was ridiculously gathered up. There’s enough material in this thing that I’ve cut it down the side seams, turned the rear half of the dress into an overskirt with a train (for the ceremony) and have enough fabric from the dress-front to be able to make an overskirt (no train) for the reception.

This means that my wedding outfit has cost $400 for a custom-made corset (admittedly quite costly, but I will definitely wear it again, because, you know, corset) and a further $100 for underskirt, overskirt x2, and a wrap so that I can keep my shoulders and that awkward little bit of armpit chub under wraps.

Crafty!

Stripping!

We knew all along that the previous owners of our house did a few … bizarre … shortcuts en route to selling it. I mean, fair enough, you don’t want to sink a billion bucks into something you’re trying to get rid of, but there’s shortcuts and then there’s shortcuts.

Yesterday, I finally decided that I was sick! and tired! of the bathrooms being filthy! and dove into them with Jif and a feminine determination to make them CLEEEEN.

I succeeded!

In the process, I discovered that the tiles surrounding the bath in the big bathroom had a really, really shitty paint job. I mean, we knew the paint job was crappy before I CLEENED them, as you could see brush marks and such, but I didn’t realise just HOW crappy until a quick scrub with elbow grease started lifting the paint.

So I attacked a tile with nail polish, to see what happened.

The paint? Straight off.

So, today heralded a trip to Mitre 10 to buy paint stripper (which was amusing, as the folks at the paint counter briefly argued over what would be most suitable to remove the paint and keep the tile nice), and the application of the first bits of the stripper (test tile, test patch, full-on paint removal).

    
Left to right: The paint before start; the test tile; the bright orange stripper going on the test patch; the test patch; the entire head of the bath stripped.

I suspect that the paint has probably permanently coloured the (probably black) grout, so eventually I’m going to have to dye the grout back to black; fortunately that particular job won’t be as onerous as the paint stripping. So, I know what I’m doing after work this week; coming home, putting on my stinky painting clothes, and stripping a patch of tile!

My 25 year old sewing machine rocks.

I have a 25-year-old Bernina sewing machine. It used to be my mother’s, and when I left home she sent it with me on the grounds that I actually sew on occasion, and Mum never does.

Ever since we moved into the house in ’08, we’ve noted that at certain hours of the evening (in the last hour or two before sundown), the light coming in the kitchen window makes it very difficult to sit on one side of the kitchen table. You have to carefully align yourself with someone-on-the-other-side’s head and hope they don’t move (much), eat with your eyes shut, etc.

We periodically mutter “We should do something about that!” and this week, I finally did.

Ideally, eventually, I want blinds in the kitchen. But I haaate venetian blinds with a pure and bloody passion, curtains are impractical in a kitchen (too dirty), Tobermory doesn’t like the Holland blinds I grew up with, and this leaves us with roller or Roman blinds; of which pre-mades don’t work, because our kitchen / dining windows are decidedly non-standard sizes, and custom-mades are ridiculously expensive. I can technically make Roman blinds, but I am not confident enough of my abilities to attempt it in a high-traffic area like the kitchen.

So, on Saturday, I went to Spotlight, bought a curtain track and found some curtain fabric on clearance. As a bonus, after I cut the curtains to an appropriate size, there was sufficient remaining fabric for me to make a Roman blind to put in the smallest bedroom.

When we moved in, the previous owners left us curtains. Some of them were OK, some of them were, in my opinion, ugly. This bedroom fell into the “ugly” spectrum; the wallpaper in there is dark blue / bluey-silver stripes; the curtains they left were beige/coffee coloured patterns. It kind of worked, I guess, but mostly didn’t. The fabric I bought for the kitchen was grey* (the kitchen is blue/grey-silver/black), so the blind is MUCH better for the little room. It’s also a lot darker (two layers of thermal backed fabric will do that for you), and as this room tends to be used as the “oh god I have a headache where is the dark” location, this is a Good Thing.

It is also a colour that will look excellent when the room is eventually re-painted; I have vague plans to paint that room a lemony-yellow, and yellow/grey/white is a colour scheme I rather like. I suspect I will have to re-thread the curtain before long, I am not confident that the cording I put on will last; but it’s good enough for a first attempt.

It felt like it was almost fated to work out, in a way. I had the idea, the fabric was left over and exactly the right amount for a blind. I found dowelling at Spotlight (for the pockets in the blind) that were EXACTLY the right width for the window on special, and when I took down the curtain track, it turned out I could re-use the curtain track screwholes for the blind.

I have done no laundry or bathroom cleaning, but I deem this weekend a Success!

* To be perfectly honest, the fabric quite strongly resembles a shower curtain; it’s grey with a silverish wavy stripey thing down the fabric periodically. In fact I am sure I’ve owned a shower curtain like this before. But it was $15 for 2.9m by 2.something of the stuff, with the stuff you hook curtain hooks into already sewn on, and thus a Bargain and I do not turn away bargains when I am making temporary solutions.

Kitchen toys

I’m not generally one for big expensive appliances. I generally find that for every HUGE NAME BRAND product, there is probably a cheaper no-name that will do just as effective a job for half the price.

There are exceptions. I adore my Le Creuset casserole and frypans, although I do find the frypan a bit heavy to handle at times. But pancakes are just utterly amazing from it.

And I have decided I really, really want a Kitchenaid mixer. One of the ones that you can strap attachments to, like the pasta maker, meat grinder, sausage stuffer… It would be nice to have sausages that Tobermory could eat without fear. I love making my own pasta.

But as they go for a pricetag of a grand or more… I am not getting one any time soon.

Still, I can dream, right?